Posted in Humor, Peg-o-Leg's Ramblings

Big Game Hunting In The Wilds of Indiana

thebighunt

My quarry was in sight.  After years of searching, the biggest prize of all would soon be mine.  Mine!  I thought back on how I had arrived at this point.

It was purely by accident.  I had been cruising the internet, casually checking out events of interest.  A rather ordinary picture scrolled across the screen. I looked idly, preparing to move on when there, in the corner, I caught a glimpse of it.  I thought I saw…but no, it couldn’t be.  Could it?  I froze the screen and tried to enlarge it, but at that magnification it was nothing but fuzzy pixels on the screen.  I couldn’t tell.  It LOOKED like it might be my quarry.  But it was hiding, way in the back, behind the more ordinary specimens that had been the subject of the photo.  I scanned the description, but nothing was said about the one in the back.  Could it be that no-one else had spotted it?  That nobody else realized how rare a specimen it was?

Feverishly I read the details.  There was to be a hunt, but it was not for several days, and it was far from home.  What did that matter?  No distance was too great to travel for the chance to bag my prize.

Time dragged.  I thought the day would never come, but Saturday dawned at last.  I was up with the sun and in my car.  Mile upon dusty mile I trekked across the barren wilderness.  Hour after hour.  I saw the signs directing me to the hunting grounds when I pulled off the highway.   I had arrived at last.

I sat in my car for a moment, enjoying the thrill of anticipation.  It seemed that the gods had smiled upon me, and today I would bag the big prize.  I grabbed my gear.  A-hunting I would go.

The place was noisy and brightly lit, crowded with other hunters stalking through specimens of every species, shape and color.  It was a veritable zoo!  At last I spotted the grouping from the photo and approached, heart beating in my chest.  I passed up the ordinary creatures in the front, my trembling hand reaching for the rare specimen I had glimpsed in the back row.  I grasped it, lifted it to my searching eyes and…and…

It wasn’t my prize.

It wasn’t the Joe St. Clair glass rose paperweight from the 1970s.  It was nothing but an ordinary blob of glass with a plastic rose stuck in the middle.

Disappointment rose like bitter gall in my throat.  I turned away.  I made a quick circuit of the rest of the barn, and then left the auction I had traveled hours to attend without a backward glance.  There was nothing there for me.  I didn’t bag the paperweight I had intended as a Christmas present for my sister, Mary Kay, and which would have been the pride of her collection.  Nor did I find:

  • the Napco lady-head vase from the 50s with red hair and an off-the-shoulder blouse that looked uncannily like my Aunt Carol, which my cousin Kathy admired at an antique shop but wouldn’t spend $600 for.
  • the “Big Bertha” 4 quart vintage medium blue Pyrex casserole dish with lid, in mint condition, for my co-worker, Dawn.
  • The 1930s unsigned Miriam Haskell intricately jeweled matching parure of necklace, brooch and earrings that would set my own heart aflutter.

I was disappointed as I made the two hour + drive back home, but undaunted.  There was always next Saturday.  And, after all, the best thing about collecting is the thrill of the hunt.

Do you collect anything?  Is there one, special piece on your radar?  Do you want me to keep an eye out for it?

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Author:

R-A-M-B-L-I-N-G-S, Ram...Blin!

30 thoughts on “Big Game Hunting In The Wilds of Indiana

      1. I actually once knew someone who did that. She was really weird. But she was ahead of her time. I knew her in the early 80s and your book says it expects knitting with dog hari to be the craze of the 90s … (apparently we missed it!).

        And while I can knit, I can never put the pieces together so that anything but a space alien could wear it. Well, maybe an octopus …

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        1. What??? Although that IS one natural resource that we never seem to run out of. Little tumbleweeds from our black lab, Sally, settle magically back into place as I’m wrapping up the cord after just vacuuming.

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  1. Mr. Brickhouse has a knick-knack aversion so we don’t collect anything. He actually collects rare bird books – I’ve started collecting empty Hendricks Gin bottles (that I finish) because they’re too pretty to throw away. 🙂 Enjoy the hunt!

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  2. So sorry you didn’t bag any prey!
    I collect small silver spoons. I don’t really want to collect them, but friends and family think I do. So when they are on holidays somewhere, and are buying ‘things’ they think we should have – they buy me a spoon. Other family members get foot high carvings of tiki dolls, I Love___ T-shirts, sombreros, etc – I get a 6 inch spoon!

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    1. Don’t you hate when you get pegged as a one-item collector? My hubby likes to hunt and my family always bought him duck stuff. After about 10 years he asked if I could tell them he hunts pheasant, not ducks, and in any case was now all set for hunting themed bricabrac

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  3. Thank you for being on the hunt for me. We may never find one-let alone one in our price range. Anything besides shell knick-knacks and fab jewelry you want me to be on the lookout for?

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    1. Did I ever tell you how I drove to Indiana on a wild goose chase for you? That’s practically as good as getting the paperweight, right? You’re welcome. 🙂

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  4. I recently drove into the wilds of deepest darkest Camden NJ for a 5 gallon carboy. The seller meekly admitted that if he had put Camden in the location box, no one would have bought it. I only wish I was two hours away from there.

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      1. One can never have enough carboys. Currently two of the three I own are filled with beer. In addition, three of my four 5 gallon kegs are filled to some extent and ready to pour. It’s a wonder I can still type.

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  5. I’m too cheap to collect antiques – so I ended up collecting foreign coins from the countries I’ve been to. By “collecting”, I mean I brought unspent coins home and let them accumulate.

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    1. I have a similar collection, but I think it has something to do with not being able to figure out how to cash them in. I also collect lint-covered coins from the bottom of my purses and car seats.

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  6. Hmm…well I don’t really collect anything…but if you happen upon a vintage Garfield trashcan or Garfield toothbrush holder or a Garfield beer cozy, I’d appreciate it if you’d pick it up for me.

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  7. Over the weekend I traveled to the wilds of Indiana as well (alas, for a funeral and not in search of big game). We passed soooooo many yard sales, barn sales, garage sales, auctions, and one little stand where kids were selling a collection of stuffed animals by the roadside. My crazy writer’s brain thought up a story where the kids were selling their stuffed babies to raise money for their mom’s wig after chemotherapy…but my fingers were too tired to write it.

    I collected bells for years, I got tired of dusting them. Like Elyse I collect dog hair. Also dust bunnies. And apparently, painful diagnoses. Loved this post, kiddo. You always make me smile!

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  8. I am the anti-collector. No, don’t start looking for “antis” for me. Although I’m sure people are selling them. Especially now that we’re trying to make America great again.

    No, I don’t collect anything…well, if you find any 100% cotton batik fabrics and unusual buttons…NO! Stop! I need to find a 12-step program. I collect their brochures. 😉

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